


it's our time now if we want it to be

by Meganna2525



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: ASL, Adoption, Angst, Found Family, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mute! Ryan, Neurodivergent! Gavin, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past minor character death, Platonic Relationships, Romantic Relationship, Trans! Gavin, Trans! Jack, Trans! Ryan, Trauma, Unconventional Families, also featuring, and also, but I didn't want to write this and not include my favourite ship, if there's anything major that I have forgotten please let me know, probably incorrect usage of Italian, probably more stuff I'm forgetting, so it's there, the freewood isn't really the focus, there is a character in this with bipolar disorder which isn't shown in the best light, welsh - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 17:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12709215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meganna2525/pseuds/Meganna2525
Summary: In which Gavin sort of learns to cope, tells a story, and gets an unexpected surprise.





	it's our time now if we want it to be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spacesix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacesix/gifts), [transvav](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transvav/gifts).



> This was written in the middle of the night and is a few thousand words of unedited self-indulgence, because I'm apparently incapable of writing anything else. I'd had a bad day and wanted to project onto Gavin, so here we are! It kind of goes all over the place. Ah well. Also, the title is a line from The Kids Aren't Alright. It seemed fitting, for obvious reasons.
> 
> Also, I want to gift this work to transvav and spacesix, since their writing inspired me to write self-indulgent stuff about Gavin and also got me into Freewood. Thank you both, I love your work.

He thought he’d left it behind him. Only two months into his new life in America and here he was, curled up on a bathroom floor, humming to himself to try and block out his thoughts. Around and around they swirled. The bruise on his shoulder, shaped like a handprint, ached in time with his heart. As a lump arose his his throat his humming became thin and strained and he took a few moments to breathe deeply, in and out, counting to eight over and over again, just as he’d been taught. Eventually, he was calm. He stood, washed his hands, and left.

A few months after that and he found himself before Burnie Burns, head of Cockbites, the biggest criminal empire this side of America. He was in a pretty nice office and there was a cup of coffee before him, obviously trying to put him at ease. But the blank expression on Burnie’s face countered all of that and he found himself bouncing his leg as he tried to pay attention. If he just paid attention, everything would be alright.

He was surprised to find out it was a job offer. Even more surprised to find out that Burnie was a very nice man, who took him under his wing and taught him all about the criminal world. Even if sometimes he yelled without warning, angry at other people but never at him. It put him on edge. When he was offered the chance to head to Los Santos and help out one of Burnie’s friends with starting up a new crew, he jumped at it.

He stepped off the plane, his rucksack slung over his shoulder and hands stuffed deep into hoodie pockets, and scanned the crowd for the tattooed man, soon spotting him off to one side, talking to a red-headed woman. The shade of her hair reminded him of home. He quashed that thought and made his way over.

“Ah, there you are! I’m Geoff Ramsey, this is my wife, Jack Patillo. Uh, Burnie didn’t mention your name.”

“...Gavin. Free.”

“Welcome to Los Santos, Gavin Free!”

Things got easier. Geoff was easy-going, more prone to a smile than a shout, and he made his happiness clear. Jack was kind and gentle with him and oh so cheerful. Gavin found himself watching them interact with a nostalgic smile several times, always catching himself before either of them noticed and shaking himself. They were criminals. They weren’t family, not by a long shot.

Still, Geoff’s laugh and the warmth of his arm as it draped over his shoulders drew Gavin in. He was a very touchy person, but backed off whenever Gavin flinched and didn’t push. He checked with him before every heist, seeing if he’d be okay. And the look of pride on his face when they completed their first heist together warmed Gavin. One night he confessed that he felt paternal towards Gavin, that he viewed him as a son. Gavin couldn’t find the words to respond, but discovered that hugging Geoff was even better than his previous fleeting pats and one-armed squeezes. He didn’t open up to Geoff, even if the look in his eyes suggested he was aware of its effects if nothing else, but he knew he probably would someday.

Time with Jack was different. She patched him up when a job went badly, or even if he just fell down, and didn’t say anything about what she saw. She went shopping with him and convinced him to buy shorts that matched her hawaiian shirts, even if he never wore them. Or only rarely wore them. She made sure he was well fed, though Geoff was the one to cook. She also joined in with his games while Geoff stood off to one side, concerned. She was athletic and beat Gavin at most anything sport, showed herself to have a great aim when she got a dildo lodged in the ceiling, and showed herself to have a great sense of humour that very same night. Jack was fun and soft and Gavin adored her, aspired to be her in some ways.

Together they kept Gavin fed and clothed, got him his own apartment even if he mostly slept at the penthouse, managed to get him to sleep when he was deep in a job and his most recent Red Bull. They played games with him and laughed with him and gave him a home. He ended up confiding in them parts of it. Jack was so very understanding, because of course she was, and they were each other’s source of refuge whenever they started having ‘gender problems’, as Geoff labelled it. And he was great too, even if it came as more of a surprise to him, and things didn’t really change in that area. Still, Gavin felt better now that he’d got it off his chest. And Jack rolled her eyes at the joke, but Geoff was laughing his hyena laugh and everything was alright.

And then other people joined. He avoided all of them. If they joined them on a heist he would plaster on a smile and joke around during it, but he disappeared when it was time for celebrations. He still noticed two people who seemed to be permanent additions to the crew. Unfortunately, they were the two he’d rather never encounter again.

Michael was loud and brash and always looked angry. The only upside was that it was always clear how he was feeling. As long as Gavin erred on the cautious side he’d be fine, cause he’d see Michael’s anger coming a mile away.

The Vagabond wore a mask and barely spoke, hadn’t even given them a name. His thoughts were a mystery. He always seemed to be watching Gavin, though. It made his skin crawl and his breath quicken. He found excuses to stay home from heists, watching over the computer instead of being there in person, and it helped.

Despite all his best efforts, he found himself on a job with his two least favourite people. For protection, Geoff had said. To help you get along, his smile conveyed. To punish you, Gavin’s thoughts whispered.

He’d gotten a lot better at dealing with people over the years. His smile never wavered and he was able to read people pretty accurately, which was a major help. But this time, something was different. Maybe he was nervous because of the two people at his back. Maybe they were just that good at concealing their feelings. Whatever it was, Gavin found himself facing a blank wall and his fingers started tapping at his leg.

Things went sour. They didn’t trust Gavin, didn’t trust the crew, his nervousness ruining things, and he found himself in the midst of a shootout. A hand wrapped tight around his arm, cutting off blood flow as a gun was shoved under his chin. Words shouted at the other two which turned into buzzing in Gavin’s head.

One singular gunshot cut through the haze.

Gentle arms caught him as he toppled to the floor and he opened eyes he hadn’t even realised he’d closed to see Michael’s concerned face up close and the Vagabond lowering a smoking gun. The man who’d grabbed him dead on the floor. He couldn’t stop himself from doubling over and retching.

Michael kept following him around the penthouse after that. Inviting him to bars, playing video games with him, even just sitting next to him on the couch. And gradually, he got used to Michael’s presence. Learned to see past his scowl to the kind heart beneath. Michael was protective and funny and latched onto Gavin, almost akin to a big brother. He shot off fireworks on Mount Chilliad and drove around the city with him, singing at the top of their lungs. He stood up for Gavin, but didn’t follow him blindly, instead always pushing him. Teaching him how to fight and drive and laugh. Life with him was exhilarating and explosive. He learned to love falling asleep in Michael’s arms, as the feeling of protection was like no other.

Things weren’t smooth sailing, though. One late night as they were exchanging texts, Gavin was called into Geoff’s office. He debated sending a message to Michael, telling him, but figured the meeting wouldn’t take that long. A two minute chat about jobs turned into an hour being taught how to protect himself and he went back to his room in high spirits, having forgotten about his previous conversation. He was quickly reminded by the angry messages on his phone. He tried to explain but got shut down and spent the rest of the night curled in a ball under his bed, wondering what he’d done wrong.

The next day they made up, though Michael was still annoyed and didn’t buy that Gavin had forgotten. Still, a week later things were back to normal. Gavin still made sure to tell Michael whenever he was doing anything that would take him away from his phone, leading to messages about how he really didn’t need to know that much about his bowel movements. But at least there were no more big arguments.

Things also improved with the Vagabond. It turned out that he was selectively mute and since Gavin had learned ASL from one of Burnie’s employees, they managed to communicate. And things just spiralled from there. Ryan, as his name was revealed to be, was a huge dork. He messed up signs often and grew flustered whenever he did so. He loved Diet Coke. And he would do almost anything Gavin asked of him, including hitting random bikers. He became Gavin’s designated driver whenever he went out drinking, purely because drunk him was far more appreciative of the way the biker’s bodies flailed as they went flying and the way the light from a cop Ryan had hit with his flare played over his face. And maybe he was a bit in love with him, but so what? It’s not like he was ever going to act on it. So drunken shenanigans stayed drunken shenanigans.

Late one night, as they were driving back, Gavin revealed that he was trans. He’d told Michael the day before and he’d been fine with it, acting similar to Geoff in that it didn’t change their relationship. Ryan, however, stared at him before pulling over so that he could sign.

‘Me too.’

Two simple words. And it wasn’t like Ryan was the first trans person Gavin had met, there was Jack for crying out loud. But it still meant something special to him. Especially since he got the feeling Ryan didn’t really tell anyone about it. He smiled and clumsily signed something back. Something about support and happiness and Ryan being lovely and he can barely remember what it was, and he was drunk enough that it was probably unintelligible, but Ryan huffed a laugh and hugged him.

And Gavin settled into a routine. New people rarely joined the crew and the B-team were easy to gradually get used to. Geoff and Jack were as kind as always, Michael was his boi, and Ryan. Well, he didn’t really know where things were with Ryan. But they were somewhere good.

Then Jeremy joined. He looked up to them all, both literally and figuratively, and it threw Gavin off. He liked Jeremy, liked his sense of humour and how he was always down for anything, regardless of consequence, but his hero worship made Gavin’s stomach twist. He didn’t feel suited to it. Michael joked that Gavin was just upset he was no longer the baby of the crew, and he laughed, and then he left to sit on the roof and ignore his problems. Which didn’t work out.

Jeremy followed him everywhere, his vibrant hair poking around the corner. Green, blue, pink, purple, Gavin lost track of the colours. And while Jeremy grew used to the others, his eyes never lost their shine when directed his way. Probably because he kept on avoiding him. As he was wont to do. Geoff rolled his eyes and put the two on jobs together, Michael dragged them both out to bars yelling something about a ‘Lads Night’, Jack invited him on their shopping trips to pick out something better than the clashing monstrosity he always wore. Only Ryan’s plan worked.

Hair dye. It was simple, but effective. Ryan asked for help with his roots, which were revealing he was a natural blond, and offered to help bleach Gavin’s hair for him to hide the fact that he wasn’t. And then Jeremy showed up, with purple and orange hair dye, asking for their help to get both colours in his hair. Gavin couldn’t restrain his laughter. Fortunately, Jeremy didn’t take offence and it broke the ice between them. Ryan smirked as the two teased each other, pleased with his work.

And Jeremy settled into the crew, losing the starry look in his eyes for once and for all. He fit in well with the group. And a new equilibrium was established. Which was finally tested only a few months later.

It was late and Gavin was drunk. He wasn't the only one, in fact everyone but Geoff and Ryan were at least tipsy. A heist celebration turned alcoholic nostalgia fest, where people were spilling secrets left and right, and somehow the topic had turned to childhoods. Geoff had just finished cheerfully regaling them with the story of him running away from home with a circus girl he'd fallen in love with and how they got their first tattoos together before she decided she wanted to see more of the world than he was willing to show her. It was cheesy and romantic and kinda sad, but Geoff told it all with a wistful smile and rounded it off with something about sending each other Christmas cards. He then looked around the circle, gaze resting on Gavin long enough to make him uncomfortable, before his face softened and he pointed at Michael.

"Your turn!"

He sighed but launched into a more typical story of growing up in New Jersey with seven brothers and how he ended up with so many injuries people just assumed he kept getting into fights, which was the norm. He was pretty sure all of his brothers were criminals. Eventually he got tired of trying to explain his injuries, especially since he didn't know how he got them either, and just started getting into fights so that he'd have a reason. From brawls to explosives, his name grew until he was able to leave that shithole and head to Los Santos. The rest is history.

Gavin tilted his head. "What kind of injuries did you get, boi?"

He shrugged. "Mostly bruises. Just woke up every morning to find a new one. Or several. And then there were the dislocations, I basically spent my entire childhood with my arm in a sling."

"Sounds like EDS."

Michael peered blearily at him. "What?"

Maybe it was the alcohol that loosened his tongue, maybe it was just that he trusted them and wanted to share more with them, especially since they'd shared so much with him, but he found himself saying, "EDS. Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. My nain had it. Prone to bruising, weak circulation, weak joints, connective tissue problems. But it's pretty rare, so easily goes undiagnosed."

"Your nine, what?"

"Nain. N-A-I-N. It's Welsh for gran."

"I thought you were English."

He blinked and shrunk back as his own words sunk in, falling silent. The others just stared at him, Geoff with more concern and less drunken curiosity. He had no clue what Ryan was thinking.

"Boi? You gonna explain?"

"Well..." He looked down at his bottle, warring with himself.

Geoff leant over, patting his shoulder, and said, "Hey, it's fine. Ryan, you wanna go next?"

Before Ryan could respond, Gavin shook his head, saying, "No, no! It's fine. I just, uh-" He took a swig of beer and pushed on. "Need some Dutch courage?"

"Well, whenever you're ready," he said, settling back. The concern still clear on his face. The others seemed to have realised that this was something important to Gavin too. At least, Michael was leaning into him and patting his knee, curiosity and worry both flickering over his face.

Gavin took another drink and a deep breath before saying, "My gran was Welsh. Kinda. She actually adopted me? But since she was so old I called her my nain. And my grandpa was Italian, so I called him my nonno. It's a, uh, long story."

"We'll be here all night if you want us, boi," Michael said, gently headbutting him. Gavin smiled.

"I don't think it will take that long. But thanks. Um." He leant back, resting his head on the couch so that he could stare at the ceiling as he talked. If he looked at the others, he knew he'd never get through it.

"I was born in Oxford to English parents. They both had busy jobs, so I was often left in the care of my older sister. She was... abusive. Manipulative, mostly. Sometimes physically beat me. I remember one time I asked if I could run back to the house to grab something I'd forgotten and she grabbed my hair and pulled me down the road. It all culminated when I broke down crying at school. I think what actually triggered it was that I'd forgotten my homework? Either way, the school looked into what was happening at home and it all came out.

"That was not a good day. She found me and tried to convince me to run away with her, that it was our parents fault and they were going to hurt her when all she'd done was look after me. When I asked to go home, she started blaming me. Saying that it was my fault, that I shouldn't have said anything, and that she'd, well... hurt herself, or worse, if I didn't do what she said."

He paused here to drink. No one said anything, though he had heard some gasps when he'd said that last part. He was grateful. If they'd spoken up he would have lost all courage. He cleared his throat and continued.

"I don't really remember what else happened, in all honesty. I think the police showed up. I think she convinced them that it was our parents abusing me. I remember being taken away for a few days. I was given someone to talk to. For the first time, someone actually listened to what I had to say. And she got sectioned. Placed in a mental hospital and diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

"There were a lot of problems with her refusing to take medication, but eventually she started getting better. And then she started showing up at the home more. And she was getting better, she really was, but I didn't want to see her and no one listened. They kept talking about how great it was, that she was doing so well, and inviting her around to things and not telling me beforehand so I just showed up and she was there and-"

He cut himself off, taking several deep breaths. It had been ages since he'd last thought about this. Once he was feeling calmer he changed topic slightly.

"Not that things were much better at home. My parents still had busy jobs, up until my dad lost his. They ignored me and had arguments and eventually got divorced and I lived with my dad. He was depressed. Can't exactly blame him, honestly, but it made things worse for me. He wouldn't get a job and wouldn't look after the house or even pay his bills and I had to look after myself. Social services got involved, again, and I was taken out of his care. My mum didn't want me back, so I was put in the system."

He toyed with the label on the bottle, organising his thoughts. At least the worst was over.

"And I got adopted by this old couple who became my nain and my nonno. They'd fostered before, but I was the first they'd actually adopted. It was great with them. I mean, there were too many people half the time, aunts and uncles and people they'd fostered, but they were great. And so was Dan.

"I don't really know the whole story there, but they'd had a kid of their own, who'd also had a kid, and that kid was Dan. But he'd been adopted by someone else. I never met Dan’s parents or heard anything about them. My grandparents were still able to send letters to Dan and they encouraged me to do the same, since we were about the same age."

He drew his legs up to his chest, lost in memories of hiding away from the extended family, scrawling on a piece of paper. He'd known that people would read the letter who weren't Dan, but it still felt so personal. Being able to talk about it all. Having someone who listened and cared. And every letter he got back only deepened those feelings.

"So yeah, things were great with them. My grandparents encouraged me to finish school and bought me my first camera and when I came out as trans they supported me and helped me transition and they actually noticed my seizures and took me to the doctor and whatnot. And so did Dan, even if he wasn't present. He was the first one I talked to about being trans, and it was his response that convinced me to tell the others. He was always so happy to let me prattle on about high speed filming for a few pages. We called each other 'B'. I can't remember what it meant, brother, boy, whatever. But he was my B.

"I, uh, even told him about the rest of it. And he got so angry about it. It was nice. I'd always felt like I couldn't be angry, ‘cause it wasn't really her, it was the disorder, y'know? And when she was better, she was nice. But seeing him get so protective... it made me feel safe. He was like the older sibling I'd been robbed of, in a way. I loved him.

"And then he said he was signing up to the army. And I wanted to support him, I really did, especially since he'd been so supportive of me. But it felt like I was going to lose him before we'd even gotten a chance to meet. I wanted him to stay safe. And I couldn't bring myself to lie and tell him to go through with it, no matter how much I wanted to. I didn't end up writing anything."

That night was vivid in his memory. His nonno peeking round the door, reminding him they would be sending off their letters to Dan the next morning so he'd have them when he left, so if Gavin had anything he should give it to them now. The hole in his chest when his nonno had had to leave empty-handed. That night was the last time he cried.

"My nonno died not long after. Old age. I remember after the funeral heading up to the racecourse and setting off fireworks with my nain as she cried. And I went to uni using the money he left me. Got a degree in Cinematography. My nain was so proud of me, so of course I went over to America to try and make it big. She gave me Dan's letters just before I left. Said she'd made copies for her to keep. It really meant a lot. I've still got them. Haven't had a letter since."

He shook his head, taking another drink, and finished off with, "I'm still in contact with her. Send her money every so often, regale her with tales of working on films. I think she knows they're fake. But, yeah." His voice trailed off as he ran out of things to say.

Michael wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a hug that was warm and smelt strongly of alcohol. His voice was muffled when he asked, "You okay, boi?"

Gavin nodded, hugging him back. "Yeah, 'm fine. Thanks."

When they parted he felt Geoff rubbing his back and looked over to see him teary-eyed. He knocked aside Geoff's arm and hugged him, laughing slightly. Geoff just shook his head, swearing.

"Fuck, buddy. That sucks. Are you sure you're okay?" He pulled back, checking Gavin over. He nodded.

"Yes, seriously. I'm okay. It was, uh, cathartic, getting it all out."

"You sure? We didn't put you on the spot or anything?"

As Jeremy half-heartedly hummed the tune, Gavin laughed and shook his head. "I wanted to tell you. You guys are family, you deserve to know."

At the word 'family', Geoff's eyes welled up again. "Aw, Gav."

He pulled Geoff into another hug to hide his smile as he said, "You sure you haven't been drinking, Geoffrey? You sure are weepy tonight."

"Shut up, we were having a moment."

"Yeah." He closed his eyes, nuzzling deeper into the hug that reminded him so much of his nonno and yet from a man so different. "Love you, Geoff."

"Love you too, Gavvers," he replied softly. When he pulled away he ruffled Gavin's hair, breaking the mood, and Gavin settled back into place beside Michael with a smile.

Later that night, as his eyes drifted shut leaning against Michael, he couldn't help but wonder what had become of Dan. His heart ached for a brief moment, but Michael's grip tightening around him managed to dispel that for now. He fell asleep surrounded by the warmth that only came from being at home.

Things changed after that. Small things. Michael stopped yelling quite so much. People double-checked if he was okay with hugs and jobs and particular games. Geoff asked about the seizures in more detail, since Gavin had only mentioned them in passing, and he told him about petit mal seizures and how they happen mostly when he’s stressed and the best way to deal with them. If Gavin starts getting antsy when working, they figure out ways to get him out of the situation before things get bad. And Gavin is happy. Even if it can get annoying to be asked for the hundredth time if he’s alright to play a game with an epilepsy warning.

Another side effect of that evening, or another two side effects, were that Ryan hovered around Gavin a lot more as a form of protection and there was no longer any reason Gavin could think of to not confess his feelings to Ryan, no baggage he was hiding that would get in the way. So one night, riding back from the bar, he turned to Ryan and signed:

‘I think I love you.’

Ryan swerved to the side, trying to avoid crashing into traffic, until they were on the side of the road and he was staring at Gavin with wide eyes.

‘You’re drunk.’

He pouted and decided that speaking would require less coordination than signing, so said, “Well, yeah. Dutch courage.”

‘If you really do, tell me when you’re not drunk.’

“But-”

He held up a hand, shaking his head, and signed, ‘I can’t believe anything you say while drunk.’

“You believed me about my past, didn’t you? I was drunk then.”

He hesitated before shaking his head once more. ‘Be that as it may, tell me when you’re sober or don’t tell me at all.’

And he placed his hands back on the wheel and continued driving, effectively ending the conversation.

The next morning Gavin was awake early, hungover and hungry and, more than anything, determined. He found Ryan in the living room, sharpening a knife, and strode over before he could lose his nerve.

‘I’m sure I love you.’

The knife clattered to the floor as Ryan once again stared at him with wide eyes. ‘You’re still-’

‘I’m not drunk. I’m hungover, but definitely sober. And I’m telling you that I have feelings for you and would like to hold hands and go on dates and kiss and-’ He paused, gathering his thoughts as Ryan remained still, and continued on with, ‘The fact that telling you this is more important to me than having coffee should really say something.’

Ryan swallowed and lowered his hands, still staring at Gavin. Gavin also lowered his hands. He could feel a familiar pit opening up in his stomach but before his worries could become more concrete there were hands on his face and then lips on his. His mind fell completely silent.

It was only a couple of seconds before Ryan pulled back, staring at him with his brow furrowed. It then hit Gavin that he could see Ryan’s brow, and the rest of his face. There wasn’t even any facepaint on. His brain short-circuited again. Ryan pulled further back, freeing his hands so he could sign.

‘Your silence is worrisome. Am I that bad a kisser?’

He shook his head, forgoing signing in favour of saying, “Definitely not. So good I’m speechless.”

Ryan’s mouth quirked up in a smile. ‘Good. I was worried I’d completely misunderstood you there.’

“What part of ‘I love you and want to kiss you’ can you misunderstand?”

Something flashed in Ryan’s eyes. ‘You know, I really like hearing you say that.’

He smiled, finally on solid ground, and said, “I love you.”

He was pulled into another kiss, softer and surer. It quickly devolved into a series of kisses, which got cut short as Michael entered the room. He sighed and called for Jack, handing her some bills. She was grinning like a cat that got the cream as she congratulated them. And when Geoff entered the room, wondering what bet Michael had lost now, there was no stopping the celebration that took place. Still, Gavin managed to find a quiet moment to pull Ryan out onto the balcony.

“Does this mean we’re dating?”

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never done the whole dating thing before.’ His cheeks became pink. ‘I’d like to, though.’

Gavin grinned. “Great. You, me, pier, Friday. Whole day. You in?”

‘Of course.’

Friday went great, as did every other date after. Geoff was worried about them dating considering both their line of work and the rumours surrounding Ryan, and Gavin knew that he’d taken Ryan aside for the shovel talk not long after that first date, but despite all the concerns things were going swimmingly.

It was a couple months later. They were in a bank, pulling a heist, and Gavin had already done his job and was now relaxing before the next stage of the plan. Scanning the room, he saw several terrified faces indicating that Ryan and Jeremy were doing their own jobs well. However he paused upon noticing one face that seemed more plotting than terrified. He knew he should go to tell Ryan, but the face was just so familiar…

They locked eyes. Gavin remembered clearly a picture pinned to a letter. The man before him was a few years older, sure, but it was definitely him.

He dropped his gaze and made his way quickly to Ryan, wondering if he’d recognised Gavin. Wondering what he should do. He was given a worried look as he drew closer, but didn’t notice it, too lost in his own thoughts. And then a voice was calling out.

“B?”

Gavin’s head snapped round. There he was, staring right back at him with confusion clear in his eyes. There was no denying it now.

“Dan.”

The confusion only deepened as Dan looked between him and Ryan. “Gav, what’s going on?”

“I, uh,” He hesitated, looking to the side to gauge Jeremy and Ryan’s reactions. Ryan was clearly worried, staring right at Gavin instead of paying any attention to the civilians surrounding them. Jeremy kept sneaking glances at them as he picked up the slack, mostly curious. Gavin turned back to Dan. “I can explain, later?”

His mouth pursed. “Okay, later.”

And then Geoff and Michael were running upstairs with bags of money and they were being shuffled outside and into the getaway vehicle as sirens drew near. It was hard to get close enough to Dan to slip a piece of paper into his pocket. Hard, but not impossible.

They were back at the penthouse, Geoff cheering and about to head into full celebration mode, when Gavin’s phone started ringing. The number was one he didn’t recognise. He excused himself, glancing at Ryan. As he left he heard Geoff asking questions followed by the specific silence that only happened when Ryan was signing. He answered the phone.

“...B?” The voice was unfamiliar, but the nickname put a lump in his throat. He took a few deep breaths before answering.

“Hey, B.”

“So it was you.” There was a sigh and Gavin’s heart clenched for a moment. “What’ve you gotten yourself into, B?”

“It’s not as bad as it looks, honestly.”

“You’ve joined a group of criminals, right?”

“Yeah. But they’re good people! They, Geoff has a code, has morals, and doesn’t let anyone in the crew who doesn’t follow it. And this lot do follow it. They’re great, seriously, Geoff reminds me so much of nonno, and Jack is lovely, and you and Michael’d get along great, and-”

“B.”

He cut himself off, heart in his throat. “Yeah?”

“I missed you.”

He sank down to the floor, clutching the phone like a lifeline. “I missed you too, B.”

“You say these criminals are a good sort?”

“Yeah, absolutely. I trust them with my life.”

“Okay. I believe you.”

And just like that, everything was okay again. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, B.”

“‘Course, B. Now then, can we meet up? I’m guessing you’ve got a lot of stories to tell.”

As they made plans, Gavin couldn’t stop smiling. Despite the fact that Dan hadn’t even met the crew yet, and they didn’t really know what was going on, and that he and Dan had had such a weird relationship and hadn’t even talked in years, he couldn’t help but feel like everything had finally fallen into place.


End file.
